Aleksei hadn't been able to rest in the communal den. In fact, he hadn't been able to rest very much at all.

He was unsettled every time he caught Lorcán's scent in the territory. The male was pulling his weight, yes, but the suspicion that he was the father of Inna's children had not subsided, not in the slightest. Instead, it had only solidified, grown stronger by the passing days, but Aleksei found himself lost for a solution. Who the hell did they think they were, parading around and acting like everything was fine? Thought themselves sneaky, did they? He wanted to beat eight bells of shit out of them both for their idiocy, for their cheek.

And that was where the problem lay: he couldn't. Inna was his sister, as childish and stupid as she had been, and he couldn't bring fang upon her flesh, or her children's—they were, after all, Aleksei's own nieces and nephews. And Lorcán? God! It was infurating, but Hearthwood's second couldn't find a flaw to pick out (save for the one he pretended to drop)! It was as if he was rubbing it in all their faces. The man hunted, guarded, picked daisies or whatever—he was doing work, the smarmy arsehole.

He wanted to punish them, wanted to find Askan and Reyes, tell them the news—rally the troops, so to speak—but it wasn't his place to do so, and it wouldn't be right, either. What kind of man would he be if he did so? Perhaps this was Lorcán's way of atoning for the wrong he had done, but still.

Thoroughly irked, Aleksei sought out solice from the one man he had always aspired to be like, always admired; his father. His footsteps were heavy as he approached the clearing in the trees, a lump rising in his throat as he remembered Maksim was buried here. It was still so hard to get his head around. He stepped out from the trees, eyes widening slightly in surprise. Another wolf was here, their head whipping around to face him. First instinct kicked in, and he went to apologise, but his jaws snapped shut and his features hardened. Inna. Of all the places she could have been at this time, it had to be here, didn't it? The one time he wanted to sit back and reflect and find answers, he stumbles across the problem. Or at least half of it.

He scowled and gave a snort, eyes narrowed, as he turned away. “I'll come back later.” His voice was cold and flat, double-edged.

Wait. Aleksei stopped in his tracks, eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in a lungful of air, refused to let it go. She wanted the two of them to sit around their father's grave and let an awkward silence hang in the air? Really? Because he'd rather do anything else to escape that sort of torture. But she pleaded, and he let out the breath he was holding onto in the form of a sigh, shaking his head.

He was going to regret turning around, wasn't he? But he did turn, and he walked over to his sister. He wasn't going to be cosying up to her any time soon though, oh no. She could swallow her dreams if she was hoping for that. Instead, Aleksei decided to settle down away from her. Far away enough that a bison might be able to comfortably lounge in the space between them. Perhaps even roll over a few times.

Despite the slight distance he had ensured existed, Aleksei could not stop from scowling at her rounded sides, his narrowed eyes dancing between her and the canopy above. “So,” came his mutter. “You've come looking for advice from ghosts, have you?” Internally, a part of him winced at the harshness of his words. Had he not come here to do the same thing? No, his stubborn streak argued. I've come here for quiet reflection, not to talk to a corpse. Again, the kindness in his heart recoiled. Where it would have been self loathing, a month or so ago, it was now an aggressive streak aimed at his sister and her lover boy.

He felt like a pup again, and that only worked to further encourage that anger in his belly. Good god, he was having the strop of a life time.

Silently, Aleksei studied Inna. Even though she spoke, he barely registered her words. Something about their father being disappointed too. He simply snorted, agreeing with but also dismissing her at the same time. He didn’t particularly want to talk to his younger sibling—too angry, too hurt—but there was clearly no avoiding it now. She questioned him, once again, and he could only settle his chartreuse gaze harshly on her face. Work it out? She wanted to work it out? He scoffed. “You should’ve thought about that before you did what you did.”

He continued, far from done with voicing his frustrations. He wanted to vent to someone, anyone but Inna. It was impossible to stop though, especially knowing that it could be used to drive the point home that she’d done something stupid. “Dad would be mortified with you, yes. But you know what? I think he’d be just like mum—too in love with his ancestry to punish family for doing wrong.” He scowled. Bitterness bubbled in his veins. “That Baranski name that puts us above every other wolf. A succession of great leaders, right? Bullshit.” He met her eyes with a steely glare and practically sneered. “Maybe Baranski wolves have always been leaders because they think they’re great and love throwing laws out that don’t apply to them.”

He didn’t move. He was a statue, smeared with poison, spewing toxic words from his dark lips like bile. “Because you sure as hell don’t think you are required to follow laws. Despite whatever she might have said about next time, Mum doesn’t think so either, huh? Or Karina.”

Oh, Karina.

“You shouldn’t be here, Inna. You should've been chased away for what you did. You and your accidental child.” Aleksei shot a look at her rounded sides once more. “But, again; what Baranski needs to fear the law, huh? They only apply to wolves without our blood.”

He let her have her say, tuning her words out with a scoff. Yeah, sure—little miss perfect over here really had a right to talk about spitting on the family grave when she’d done the one thing that would have broken their father’s heart. It was almost pathetic how desperate Inna was to make a jab at Aleksei, and he laughed sourly. “You really love the sound of your voice, don’t you?” On and on she went. It felt as though a hole was being bored into his ear.

And then she said Karina’s name, and his hackles bristled. His lip peeled back as he rose up, snarling loud and threatening. “You don’t get to speak her name!” He closed the distance between them in an instant, pushing his chest forward and lifting his tail high. “You, the hypocrite who denounces her and speaks ill of her when your crime is worse by far! See, you let her be snatched up by Kjors! I bet you never even tried to help her! You were content to just ignore it because it didn’t bother you! You, mother and father. Orren and Lekalta—none of you gave a fucking shit about her!” His chest heaved, anger wild in his eyes. “Weak little Karina, precious fawn of the family. When coddling didn’t work, you abandoned her to her fate, just gave up. Was it too much effort? Did you have nothing to gain from it?”

Thunder rumbled inside him, lightning in his veins, bringing his hairs to stand on end and burning his skin. “You never cared about anyone but yourselves.” It was Aleksei who had spent his time with Karina, tried to protect her, tried to reclaim their true home for them all. “Everyone was so disappointed with Karina, they gave you half her identity. Karina, Inna—she was their failed daughter, and you were just a second chance to do our grandmother "proud".”